Enemy in Sight! Read Free Page A

will if I ’ave any say.”
    The assembled company were still crowded on the gangways and deckspace, their faces pale when compared with Gossett and Allday.
    This should have been the moment for a rousing speech, a time to bring a cheer from these men who were still strangers to him and to each other.
    He lifted his voice above the wind. “We will waste no more time. Our orders are to join the blockading squadron off Lorient without delay. We have a well-found ship, one with a fine history and great tradition, and together we will do our best to seal the enemy in his harbours, or destroy him should he be foolish enough to venture outside!”
    He leaned forward, resting his hands on the quarterdeck rail as the ship lifted ponderously beneath him. It was amazing, but some of the men were nudging each other and grinning at his empty words. In a few months they would know the true wretched- ness of blockade duty. Riding out all weathers with neither shelter nor fresh food, while the French rested in their harbours and waited in comfort for a gap in the British chain of ships when they might dash out, hit hard and return before any offensive action might be taken against them.
    Occasionally a ship would be relieved for reprovisioning or serious repairs and another would take her place, as Hyperion was now doing.
    He added briskly, “There is much to accomplish, and I will expect each one of you to do his best at all times to become proficient at whatever task he is given.” Here, some of the older men grimaced. They knew it would be gun and sail drill under an officer’s pocket-watch until their captain was satisfied. In this sort of weather it would not be comfortable work, especially for the men who had never been afloat before.
    Bolitho let his eye stray to the opposite side of the quarter- deck where Inch and the other four lieutenants stood in line by the rail. In the hectic days leading up to and following the Hyperion’ s recommissioning he had had less time than he would have wished to get to know his new officers. The three junior ones seemed keen enough but were very young and with little experience. Their uniforms shone with newness and their faces were as pink as any midshipman’s. The second lieutenant, how- ever, a man named Stepkyne, had qualified as a master’s mate aboard an East Indiaman and had found his way in the King’s service when appointed to a cumbersome storeship. It must have cost him much hard work and bitter experience to attain com- missioned rank, and as he stood swaying easily on the Hyperion’ s deck Bolitho could see the tense lines around his mouth, an expression bordering on resentment as he glanced sideways at young Inch.
    Beyond the lieutenants were the ship’s six midshipmen, again very young, but obviously excited at the prospect of what was for most of them a first voyage.
    Captain Dawson stood with his marines, heavy-jowled and unsmiling, with his lieutenant, Hicks, an incredibly smart but vacant-looking young man, by his elbow. Bolitho bit his lip. The marines were excellent for forays ashore or the cut and thrust of close action. But they offered little help in the matters of driving a ship of the line under full sail.
    He felt the wind swirling damply around his legs and added shortly, “That will be all for now.” He nodded to Inch. “Prepare to get the ship under way, if you please.”
    Bolitho caught sight of Joshua Tomlin, the boatswain, by the entry port, his sharp eyes moving quickly across the men nearest him. Tomlin was another of the original company, a squat, mas- sively built man, almost as broad as he was tall, and extremely hairy. When he smiled, which was often, he displayed a fearsome and maniac grin, having had both front teeth knocked out by a falling block many years before. He was known for his patience and his rough good humour, and Bolitho had never yet seen him strike a man in anger, which was unusual